I woke up the other day to the noise of what sounded like banging on a table. I asked what was going on and my mom said dad was trying to open the relish jar. I called in the other room and told my dad to just give me the jar and I would try to open it. My dad handed it to my mom and my mom handed it to me and I saw that the plastic was still wrapped around the top. They couldn't get it open because the plastic was sealed around the top.
It's this kind of frolic and games that we play in the Schwartz household. Except they're not playing. I have to laugh, but I do so quietly, because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Sometimes I roll my eyes, sometimes I just shake my head and sometimes I sigh really big. I do a lot of sighing.
Tonight, we needed more napkins at the table. You wouldn't believe how many napkins are used in this house. My dad goes through about 10 at each meal. He has to wipe his face several times and then he has to blow his nose a few times. He ends up with a little, neat pile of napkins next to his plate, that get thrown in "his" garbage basket at the end of the meal. Somehow, Kita got ahold of one of those napkins and chewed it to pieces, while my dad sat swearing at her because she made a mess. I just left the room with my dog and closed my door. I figured he could clean it up.
I can tell I need a vacation from all of this craziness. It's way overdue, but I'm going "home" in two days and I can't wait. I miss my kids and my grandkids terribly and I need to talk with people who can hear me and not have to repeat myself over and over. When I get back, I'm going to find a hearing doctor and make an appointment for both of them. I'm sure they both need hearing aids.
My suitcase is packed and sitting on my bed. The last minute stuff I have to pack I will do on Friday, because my flight is in the evening. I will be waiting patiently for Danny, who will be taking me to the airport and we'll probably laugh the whole way there, talking about the antics that go on in this household. He is the only one who truly understands what I write about, as he "lived" it too.
My parents have graciously agreed to watch Kita while I'm gone. I'll only be gone a week, but I would rather have her here with them, then with strangers I don't know. I hope she behaves for them. She whines and watches the door when I leave and is very distracted until I get home. I hope she settles in for them, or I will hear it from my father when I get home. I'll probably hear it anyway. He likes to complain, just to complain.
Which brings me to Sunday. The pastor preached an excellent message on being positive and keeping negativity out of your life. I tend to be a negative person and I hate that. Seriously, I wish I was more positive and looked at things with more optimism. I tend to blame the way I was raised on my personality, but that can't be all of it. True, my father is Mr. Negative of the Year, but my mom has always been Ms. Optimism of the Year. They are truly two exact opposite individuals. My brothers and I take more after my dad than my mom, which is unfortunate. My dad has some awesome qualities, like his sense of humor, his laugh and his business sense. But it's my mom who is gentle, quiet and generally positive. She never liked quarreling and it used to drive me crazy when I was young, because she would never stand up to my dad. But that's just not in her makeup.
As much as I point out my parents' weird idiosyncracies (I have no idea if I spelled that right or not), and all of the craziness that goes on in this household, I really do love them very much. Unfortunately, it always wasn't that way for me and I regret that now. I wasted a lot of time being angry with them and resenting the way I was raised, which now I find so silly. As a parent, we all do what we think is right, one way or the other, and it's usually Russian ruolette. I can read a million books on parenting, and that will never help me be a parent. You have to live it and make mistakes and learn and love and even ask your kids to forgive you every now and then. Just because I'm the mom, doesn't always make me right. I learned that early on, and although it was hard to do, I have had to apologize to my kids more than one time. The bottom line, is you do the best you can with what you have and lean on God for the rest. He always makes up the difference.
And now I am a grandmother and I absolutely love it. It's the best. I asked Shanti if she was going to sleep next to me when I am there, and she said, "Of course." There was no thinking about it on her part. And the thing is, she will have to sleep on the floor because I will be sleeping on the couch. But she will get her little blankets and pillow and camp out right next to grandma because she loves me. Love that is pure. Love that doesn't have to think about the answer to the question because it's never a question. And when I see Donovan and Jade, they will come running to me like I never left. Like I'm this soft, cuddly person who they can hug and I'll hug back. And of course give lots of kisses to until they giggle over and over and over.
I love being a grandma who is loved.
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